Ben & Jack
by Ollie Broom
Summary: Ben & Jack learn to cope with living in the Labyrinth after they end up trapped in the Goblin King's realm


'FOR THE LOVE OF A BROTHER'

By Ollie Broom

Ben had been foraging for several hours now, along the edge of the wooded 

outskirts of the bog, picking berries and the small amount of edible fruit that 

was growing there. He was beginning to get tired. But the small knot of hunger 

in his belly had been growing steadily over the past hour or so, and he knew 

that his brother Jack was feeling the same.

Ben and Jack were brothers, two young boys lost in a strange world. Just over 

a year ago, in a fit of anger, Ben had wished his brother David away into the 

mythical land of the Labyrinth, a boyish fantasy which, at the time, he had 

desperately wished would come true. And it did. The very next day David was gone 

and all that remained was a beautiful owl perched at his bedside. The rest was 

hazy, but both Ben and Jack knew they had ventured out to rescue their brother, 

and had failed. This was now their home and they had long ago resigned 

themselves to the fact that they would probably not be getting back to where 

they came from. 

Sometimes, Ben would lie awake at night and remember what it was like before 

they came here. The memories were fading but he would never forget the faces of 

his mother and father. He would imagine them sitting at home waiting for their 

boys to return, wondering what they were thinking and whether they were coping 

without them. He thought maybe not.

Food was scarce in the Labyrinth. In fact, in the actual Labyrinth itself, 

Ben and Jack had never found any way to abate their hunger, or their thirst. 

There were pools and rivers dotted about the place, but the water was never 

quite right and would always bring about some strange side-effect, much like 

most of the food they had found growing there. One day, Ben had stumbled across 

a peach tree growing in the centre of one of the many bush-mazes they had been 

lost in during those first few weeks. The most glorious peaches grew on the 

tree, shiny and fleshy. Ben had bitten into one of those peaches, his hunger had 

been so great. Straight away, his hair had begun to grow at an accelerated rate. 

In fact, by the end of that very same day, he had started tripping over it as he 

walked. Jack had tried to sheer it back with a rusty old knife, but his best 

attempts produced a matted mess. The next morning, Ben awoke to discover, with 

some shock, that his hair had all fallen out over night. After that, it had 

grown back at a normal rate.

Ben and Jack never ate food, or drank water, from the Labyrinth again. They 

instead turned to the rubbish dump on the outskirts of the Goblin City. Here 

they not only found scraps of food amongst the garbage, but also discovered that 

the nearby woodland, which encompassed the foul Bog of Eternal Stench, yielded 

some edible fruits. This had kept them alive for a year now. 

It was somewhat more of a dangerous endeavour to acquire clean water. The 

only source of drinkable water was located within the Goblin City itself, at 

various fountain sites. They went mostly at night, and only a couple of times a 

week. It was collecting water that scared Ben the most, and more often than not 

it was left to Jack to go on his own.

Ben had collected almost enough fruit to keep Jack and himself satisfied for 

at least today and tomorrow. He should have know not to look when he heard the 

sounds coming from within the trees, down by the path which wound it's way 

through the wood and provided the only easy way across the Bog. But something 

made him curious, and bundling up the fruit he was carrying, he gingerly tiptoed 

down between the trees.

Jack was tidying the home. Since arriving at the dumpsite, the boys had 

managed to fashion a rough shack of sorts. It wasn't much - a sheet of rusty 

corrugated iron propped up by four wooden beams, with a sheet thrown over the 

top. But it was where they slept and kept warm at night. 

The dump-keepers (as the brothers had taken to calling them), strange folk 

who carried their homes and everything they owned on their backs, left them 

pretty much alone, showing little interest in the presence of the two human 

boys. This often puzzled Jack. Often he would see them slinking about in the 

trash and wonder who they were, or who they had once been, and what they were 

doing here. But they paid little or no attention to him or his brother, and kept 

themselves pretty much to themselves. One day, Jack had accidentally trodden on 

one's back without realising, whilst clambering over what he thought was just 

another mound of garbage. The old creature (Jack presumed them to be a kind of 

Goblin, or something similar) had shouted and cursed but had made no attempt to 

harm him. It slinked off to wherever it came from, leaving a rather shaken up 

Jack behind. He had always wondered why he had never seen the same dump-keeper 

more than once. They were a curious folk indeed.

Jack decided to leave the housekeeping till later and set off to find some 

food of his own. Ben had already been longer than usual, and he was getting 

hungry already. He knew a good spot for berries right on the edge of the wood, 

and made a promise to himself to save some for Ben, in case he had not been 

lucky this time in finding something to eat.

The first sign that something was wrong was the cracking sound of a breaking 

twig somewhere behind Ben, from where he had just come from, down the pathway. 

He spun on his foot to find no-one there. Then he heard a similar sound from 

behind, but spinning around again, he found nothing to cause alarm. Something 

about this place made him feel very uneasy. He began to edge his way back 

towards the edge of the wood. The soft light was dappled by the leafy canopy, 

casting an eerie pattern of flickers and shadows across the ground. He kept 

seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, branches swaying maybe, or just an 

effect of the light playing in the trees. His heart was pounding fast by now. 

Turning, he began to run back to the mouth of the wood, spilling his cargo of 

berries as he went. It was then that he realised, his path was blocked. The 

group of ugly little Goblins were clothed in roughly-made armour, scraps of 

metal held together by leather strips, and each carried a gruesome looking 

blade, hewn roughly out of metal with a wicked, jagged edge. Ben was trapped. 

They were Goblin guards. He had seen many before. This time, all he could do was 

turn the other way and flee into the trees. The gnarled trunks beckoned him in, 

dead leaves crunched under his feet, and the chitter-chatter sound of goblin 

voices came from all directions. My god, he thought, how many of them are there?

The thing was, he knew that with goblins, you never knew how many there were. 

A handful could make themselves seem like a warband with their quick movements 

and their unnerving chattering voices, especially when you can't see where they 

are. That's what made the woods so dangerous - he knew he should have kept away. 

If Jack had been with him, this would never have happened.

'Jack! Jack, where are you!' Ben shouted as he ran.

All the berries you could eat, thought Jack to himself as he filled his small 

sack full of the red fruits, eating a handful every now and again to ease the 

hungry knot that was growing steadily in his stomach. The berries tasted sweet 

and were a deep red in colour. They seemed to be harmless enough. The boys had 

lived off them for nearly a year now.

Jack had long ago resigned himself to the fact that they would either die, or 

live forever where they were now. He could see no way of getting back home. Ben 

would often lie awake at night and whimper, sometimes he wouldn't even know why 

he was doing it. Between them both there was an underlying feeling of sadness 

and remorse - if they hadn't of had each other, they would have nothing. Jack 

knew that neither of them would have been able to survive here on their own - as 

it was, he had often thought about ending it all, for Ben and himself. Ben 

needn't ever know what was going on, he could finish it all for them both. But 

Jack's sense of survival was too keen - even though he was sure they were here 

to stay, he also knew that living here was better than dying. In fact, sometimes 

he found himself sitting outside on a pleasant day and admiring the Labyrinth; 

some days, the light had an almost surreal, comforting quality about it. The way 

it played over the sandstone walls spread out below enchanted him. His favourite 

place of all was amongst the bush-mazes, where the green walls seemed to hold 

some comfort for him. If it had not been for the dangers of living there, Jack 

would have set up home within the Labyrinth itself. As it was, the place was too 

unpredictable, too alive, for the boys ever to think of setting up a permanent 

spot there. No, the rubbish dump was, and always had been, their best hope.

There, on the edge of hearing... Someone shouting, maybe. The wind, no doubt, 

Jack thought to himself. Sometimes the Labyrinth made noises all of it's own, 

strange noises which seemed to come from nowhere. The wood surrounding the Bog 

was alive with noise during the twilight hours; at night, Jack often found it 

hard to sleep at all. Sometimes, he was sure he could here distance voices in 

amongst it all, calling out...

No. There it was again. Not like the normal ethereal sounds of the Labyrinth, 

but a clear cry. And again. His name - someone was calling his name. He knew 

that could be only one person.

'Ben, Ben! I'm coming!' he cried, dropping everything in his hands and 

pelting full-speed towards the woods edge, from where the sound was coming. 

Crashing through the undergrowth, breaking through dead branches and thumping 

against tree trunks, he circled desperately, trying to locate the source of his 

brother's cries.

'Jack! Jack! Help!'

His brothers pleas brought tears of frustration to his eyes, as he 

desperately continued his search. In an instant, he crashed through a wall of 

brush and stumbled into a clearing bathed in sunlight. Ben was busy pelting 

rocks at a huddle of what appeared to be goblin guards. A couple of them were 

edging forward, waving their hands and screaming wildly at his brother.

Reaching down, Jack began picking up rocks and hurling them at the angry mob. 

Faced with this new threat, the goblins decided that it was probably best if 

they left, and they did so in a hurry, fleeing wildly into the trees.

'Ben, my god, are you alright? We've got to get out of here, back to the 

dump. They might come back.'

'Jack, thank god you came.'

Jack noticed the cut on Ben's left leg, and took hold of his leg to examine 

it more closely.

'I tripped when I was running away. That's how they caught up with me. It 

hurts, Jack.'

'It's OK, Ben. You're alright now. You're alright now.' Jack was out of 

breath from the encounter. 'Let's get you back to the shelter. We'll get you 

fixed up in no time at all.'

'Jack, I'm sorry. I dropped all the food.'

Jack chuckled out loud.

'It's alright, Ben,' He said smoothly, stroking his brothers matted hair, 

'It's alright. Truth is, so did I. Let's get back.'

Jack helped his brother to his feet, before they both stumbled uneasily 

through the trees.

Jeb was returning home after a hard day's work. Well, as hard as it could be. 

Watching the front gate to the Goblin City always got the better of him, and by 

late morning, he would always be fast asleep, propped up against the stonework 

and unconcerned with the world in general. It was a tradition of sorts that the 

supposedly most important guard in the entire City should spend his day storing 

up his energy by sleeping. Then, by some eerie quirk of fate, should any real 

trouble arise (not that it ever did in this place anyway), he would be fully 

rested and ready for action. That was the theory, and Jeb liked it.

He'd made it to the front door before he heard the gravel-like tones of his 

beloved wife screaming inside. Through some strange sixth sense, Sashkik could 

always tell when Jeb was about. No matter how quiet he was about it, he could 

never make it into the house before she began ranting and raving. He'd given up 

trying a long time ago. Right now he was wondering what it was he had done that 

was so terrible.

Oh dear, he thought as he walked into the small room which made up the entire 

downstairs of the tiny goblin house that was his home. His best mate and working 

companion Aklok was sitting in one of the two chairs, wracking his knuckles in a 

blatantly nervous, and generally concerned, manner. For a goblin, Jeb was pretty 

smart. He soon pieced together what was going on here.

The previous evening, Aklok and himself had been walking to work to punch in. 

They were late but then they were always late - everyone was always late, so 

they didn't give it any thought as they meandered through the streets in the 

general direction of the Domestic & Security Admin centre, chatting and laughing 

(or rather grunting) about nothing in particular. Aklok invited Jeb down the 

pub. Jeb said no. Aklok asked why.

The thing about Sashkik was she got terribly possessive; she didn't like Jeb 

going out anywhere, and she was especially wary of letting him go down the pub. 

Of course, Jeb rarely listened and went anyway. However, things had been getting 

a little more strained than usual and, well, despite all her many flaw's, Jeb 

kind of liked Sashkik in a weird goblin kind-of-a-way. And so he'd said no, he 

would not be coming down the pub.

Aklok convinced him. Because the thing about Aklok was, he was Jeb's best 

mate. And in a funny, weird goblin kind-of-a-way, Jeb liked Aklok. Maybe more so 

than Sashkik. At least Aklok never screamed and shouted at him. And he bought 

him drinks.

Aklok had come early. He never came early to pick him up. But tonight, he had 

done. And Sashkik was home (well, where else would she be? He thought to 

himself) and that meant trouble.

'Down the pub!' she screeched, 'Down the pub?! What did I tell you, Jeb? What 

did you tell me? Just yesterday? Well?!'

Sashkik stood in the cramped room with her small goblin hands on her hips, 

and her terribly ugly nose pointing straight at him, licking her lips in 

anticipation of what was sure to be a sterling argument.

Bugger, he thought, this is just too much.

'You know Sash, sometimes, you're just too much. Aklok. Get your coat.' He 

said.

'Um, I've already got it on, Jeb'

'Good. Then come on, my friend. We're going down the pub.' He announced 

defiantly, and, without stopping to see the look on his beloved wife's face, he 

was out the door, and two streets down before the sound of her screeching and 

yelling faded into the distance, with Aklok hurrying behind him.

Bugger, he thought, she's gonna' kill me tonight.

'Blimey!' Aklok huffed from a little way behind, 'You really showed her this 

time, di'nt ya'? Hee hee.'

'Yeah. I really did, didn't I?' Jeb answered unenthusiastically.

For some reason, Jeb had a very bad feeling about the rest of his evening.

Getting into bed without his sleeping wife noticing was an art that Jeb had 

perfected through years of practical experience, and a skill of which he was 

particularly proud. He was a legend in his own right. Blind drunk and full of 

life, he managed to make it up the stairs and under the sheets (undressing as he 

went) without a peep from his beloved Sashkik. It wasn't long before he was fast 

asleep.

Jeb had dreams. In fact, over the past year, he'd had a lot of dreams. It had 

died down in recent months, but every now and again it would come back. Goblins 

never dreamed. Not like this, anyway. They dreamed about goblin-things, like 

food and sleeping, and drink. Sure, Jeb dreamed about all those things. But Jeb 

dreamed about humans, too.

To be exact, he dreamt that he was a human. He often did so about a year ago, 

in fact it almost drove him mad. His 'acquaintance' with the King of the Goblins 

himself (and the reason why he had such a cushy job) had meant that he'd had 

some help with it, and the dreams had diminished. But he still saw himself every 

so often, in dreamtime, playing and laughing amongst human boys. He would stare 

in awe at his own hands; five fingers, not four. Pink skin. Smooth pink skin. It 

was all too scary for him. Some nights he would awaken in a cold sweat, shaking, 

dripping wet, and with a terrible feeling of emptiness.

And tonight, he dreamt again.

He dreamed he was running through tall grass. It was a perfectly calm day, 

except for a soft cool breeze that invigorated him as he ran, the air flowing 

over his skin and throwing his hair back from his face. The sounds of voices 

were around him. Looking round he saw the two human boys he so often dreamed 

about. They were running and laughing with him, shouting out a name to him, 

maybe his name. Who's it was he could not make out, only that they were all 

laughing and running, and playing together. As he brought his hand up to brush 

the hair out of his eyes, he caught sight of them; hideous, human hands that 

turned his dream into a nightmare and woke him, startled and afraid.

Oh hell, he thought to himself, these dreams will drive me mad. I thought 

they were gone forever.

It was a while before he could be bothered to get out of bed. That's what he 

told himself, but in actual fact he couldn't walk for shaking after waking up in 

the manner that he did, and he didn't want Sashkik to see him like that - she'd 

never leave him alone about it. As it was she was always asking questions and 

probing like some annoying fly sucking away at him. He loved her more than he 

realised. He heard the door bang shut.

In the mornings, Sashkik would go out and work at the castle, cleaning the 

rooms of the west wing along with her equally annoying friends, one of whom was 

Aklok's wife. They didn't seem to get on either. Aklok and Jeb would often treat 

each other to lengthy stories about what arguments were flying about at the 

present time and how similar their situations were. Of course, it was rare for 

goblins to actually get on with each other when married, but it didn't stop them 

moaning about it afterwards. This morning, Sashkik was already gone by the time 

Jeb got out of bed.

She's left early, he thought. Well, earlier than usual. Less late. Oh well, 

another day in the sun. He didn't mind his job; dozing was what he did best, and 

as a guard, he had a perfect excuse to do just that. But before Jeb was ready 

and off to work, he got an unexpected visitor banging at his door.

'Jareth! Oh, well, yes, it's good to see you.' Jeb blurted out before bowing 

deeply, then bowing again.

In his small porch, stooped uncomfortably low, was Jareth, King of the 

Goblins.

'Jeb. It's nice to see you too' he answered in his eerie, closed tone.

The two stood there in silence for a moment, Jareth tapping his fingers on 

the edge of the porch roof trying to fit his tall frame into the small goblin-

sized space. Jeb didn't quite know what to say.

'Well, Jeb. Aren't you going to let me come in? ' Jareth always did this 

thing of looking deeply into someone's eyes whenever he was asking them a 

question. Jeb had always found it unnerving. He suddenly realised that Jareth 

was quite obviously very uncomfortable in his little porch, and quickly took a 

hold of himself.

'Where're my manners, for goodness sake! I don't know, come on in, why don't 

you.' He replied, bowing once more for good measure.

Jareth looked suspiciously at the small doorway, then looked down at his own 

long frame.

'On second thoughts, Jeb, maybe you should come out here' he said in his 

usual nonchalant manner.

'Of course, how silly. I'll be right out.' He puffed in reply.

Jeb closed the door in the most polite manner he knew how to, and stood for a 

moment to gather himself and calm his whirlwind mind, before opening the door 

again. He stepped out into the street.

Jareth was already standing out in the middle of the dirt road, with all the 

presence he'd always had, riding crop in hand. Goblins scurried about him 

without touching him, busying themselves intensely with their own duties and 

trying to ignore Jareth's presence without being too rude about it. The fact 

was, Jareth scared most of the goblins. The only ones who were really used to 

him were those who worked near him in the castle, and even they were wary of his 

powers. Still, they all knew that without Jareth things would be very different.

Jareth crouched down on one knee to bring himself face to face with the 

little goblin.

'Tell me, Jeb. How have things been lately?' 

Jareth's tone was almost 

sarcastic, but Jeb had known him long enough to know that everything Jareth said 

was touched with his indescribable character. He never took offence; it wasn't 

his place to, after all.

'Well, not bad. No. Not bad at all.'

'And your job. How are you finding it. Not too stressful, I hope?'

'Not too stressful at all, thank you. Of course, I'm very grateful for what 

you've done for me...'

'Yes yes, you have told me before, Jeb.'

'Sorry.'

Jareth paused to take one of his nonchalant glances around.

'And the dreams, Jeb. How are your dreams?' This time, Jareth did not look 

into Jeb's eyes. Curiously, he found this far more unnerving.

'Oh. Um, well, gone, your highness. Yes, they're gone.'

There was a short silence.

'Jeb. You're fidgeting.'

Jeb took a look at himself and found that, yes, he was indeed fidgeting, and 

rather intensely at that.

'Oh. So I am. How odd. Hmmm.'

'What's wrong, Jeb?' Jareth asked, placing a firm, steady, velvet-gloved hand 

on the small goblins shoulder.

'Wrong? Nothing, your highness. Really.' Jeb replied nervously.

Jareth stared deep into Jeb's eyes for a moment, then stood up straight in a 

quick and graceful movement, and stared down the street, riding crop held at 

both ends.

'You're still dreaming, yes?'

Jeb paused before answering. For some reason he was deeply troubled by this 

whole topic, and he did not know why. The dreams disturbed him a great deal, it 

was true, but at the same time, he sometimes found great comfort in them, like 

they meant something deeply personal to him. There were times he wished they 

would vanish altogether. Yet there were other times when, well, he was glad they 

were there, as if without them, he would feel like something had been lost. He 

could never explain it to even to himself, because he didn't really understand 

it himself. He just knew how he felt about the matter, and at the end of the 

day, that's what mattered most to a goblin. He tried to sound unphased by the 

whole subject.

'Yes, your highness. About once a week, actually. A mild inconvenience, 

truly.'

'Let me do something for you, Jeb.'

'Oh your highness, you have already done so much for me. For which I'm 

particularly grateful, of course...'

'Jeb. Let me do something for you.'

Jeb suddenly understood what he was getting at.

'Oh. Yes, of course, your highness.'

Jareth lay a tender hand on the goblin's head, and closed his eyes. The pair 

stood like that for several minutes, and Jeb found himself wondering what to do. 

He thought maybe he should say something, but, well, it just didn't seem 

appropriate, so he just shut up.

Then it began. In those few moments afterwards, Jeb began to feel a strange 

sensation in his body, like something was draining away, or more like something 

was being dragged from him, as if his whole system was being flushed through. It 

made him shiver, he couldn't help but close his eyes and see a myriad of colours 

and lights playing trickery in the darkness of his mind. He fell to his knees, 

and Jareth followed his every move, his hand never leaving the Goblins head. And 

in an instant, it was all over.

'Thank you, Jeb. I think you will feel a lot better, now.'

Jeb raised himself to his feet, a little bemused.

'Better, Jareth? Was I sick, then?'

'Not any more.' He replied, 'Not any more.'

Jareth smiled almost imperceptibly, before turning and walking away.

'Take care, Jeb the Goblin.' He called over his shoulder, before disappearing 

around the corner of a house.

A little confused, and feeling somewhat bewildered, Jeb went back home. 

Despite a peculiar feeling that he was missing something, he set off to work, 

and soon forgot all about it.

And he never dreamed of those things again.

Ben and Jack crept up to the crest of the hill on their bellies. Pulling the 

long grass apart at the top, they peered down on the scene below. It was one 

they had grown use to seeing.

The walls of the Goblin City rose about twelve feet into the air; constructed 

from roughly-cut blocks of sandstone and covered in a twisting network of vines 

along much of there length, they made a formidable statement to any would-be 

intruders. The main gate stood about ten feet tall, it's heavy wooden doors 

closed and guarded by the single guardsman who was, as usual, propped up against 

the stonework taking a nap in the soft light of dusk. Immediately beyond the 

gates stood the ruins of the Iron Guardian. The boys had never seen it in 

operation, which was just as well seeing as how if it had of been, they probably 

would not have been able to enter the city unnoticed. 

They did not know how the guardian was destroyed, or indeed why another one 

had not been created, but its ruins undoubtedly stood as a testament to 

someone's attempt at solving the Labyrinth, someone who had obviously been more 

successful than Jack and Ben.

The two boys carefully crept down the other side of the hill, making as 

little noise as they could, before trotting quietly over to the bottom of the 

city wall, where they remained for several minutes, making sure no-one had seen 

them approach. Nobody had. The guard who was dozing on the door shifted 

slightly, but only to get more comfortable. Ben was shaking slightly as he 

always did when they came to the city for water. There was something about the 

place that unsettled him greatly. Of course, Jack could see why, but his fear 

had long ago faded, only because he knew that without these trips, his brother 

and he would have perished long ago. Still, this didn't mean he wasn't wary of 

the dangers, and they stayed for several more minutes at the bottom of the wall, 

making no noise at all, except for that of their thumping heartbeats.

He decided the coast was clear. The brothers nimbly crept along the line of 

the wall, dragging their water-skins behind them, until they were at the gates. 

This was probably the most dangerous part, and Jack was always the one who did 

it. Reaching out, he gave the wooden door a hefty nudge, and it swung backwards 

on it's creaky hinges. 

He had never understood why the guard didn't wake up at this. The first time 

they had come here, the sound of those hinges had sent the boys fleeing, sure 

that the goblins would be hot on their trail. But looking back from the hill, 

they had seen the guard dozing as always, and no-one had stirred at all. The 

Goblin City was an eerie place indeed.

A minute later and the two boys were inside the walled city, nestling amongst 

the ruined body of the iron guardian, breathing fast and heavy and thinking 

about their next move. Dodging between the buildings was always risky; if they 

ever ran into a goblin, especially a goblin guard, then they would be in 

trouble. The rewards outweighed the dangers, and that was all that kept them 

going. They knew where the fountains were, and the closest one was only a couple 

of streets down. With a well-practised drill and a little bit of luck, they 

reached it in a matter of minutes without being spotted. 

The place was always so quiet, yet with so many houses, there must have been 

thousands of goblins about the place somewhere. Jack had come to believe that 

most spent their time up in the castle. He knew for a fact that many patrolled 

the Labyrinth itself, looking for beasts to catch or lost wanderers to chase. In 

the city, during the day, the boys never saw more than a handful of the ugly 

little creatures. Not that either of them was complaining!

The fountain sat in the middle of the square, an ugly-looking thing covered 

in little stone goblins spewing water from their mouths into a shallow pool 

making up the fountain's centre. It was one of hundreds dotted throughout the 

city, and the safest one the boys had found when it came to stealing water, as 

it was one of the more quieter spots.

Jack went first, sneaking up out of the shadows and over to the edge of the 

pool, crouching down behind the low wall whilst pushing his water-skin into the 

cool water. He felt it bubble as he squeezed the air from it, and when he let go 

he felt it swell as it filled itself up. It felt like an age before it was 

finally full and he could scurry back to Ben, who was hidden in a dark recess 

between two buildings.

Ben went up and repeated the process, filling his own water-skin before 

returning to his brother. The easiest part was over. Now all they had to do was 

get out. 

Turning around, they slipped out from their hiding spot and moved into a back 

alley that fed onto what seemed to be a main street in this area. Well, it was 

wider than most of the other streets, anyway.

As they turned the corner, standing in front of them was a group of five 

short goblins talking and laughing. Jack's heart sank. Their sheathed weapons 

and badly made armour meant they were a city patrol, and they had spotted them.

Within seconds, the goblins were shouting and screaming at the pair, and 

grabbing and pushing each other to make a move. One by one they drew their 

weapons, by which time a frightened Jack and a petrified Ben were fleeing as 

fast as they could through the streets, bowling into surprised goblins and 

thinking nothing of hiding their presence any longer. It was no use, they had 

been seen.

The boys soon became lost in the maze of houses and clearings, the criss-

cross matrix of disorganised streets proving as much a puzzle as the Labyrinth 

itself. All around, the sound of surprised goblin voices and running feet filled 

the air, and Ben's heart pounded faster and faster until he thought he was going 

to collapse.

'Ben, we're going to have to hide somewhere.' Jack shouted out behind him. 

Although they could hear goblins chasing after them, they were a good distance 

in front of their pursuers. Jack was quick to take the advantage.

'Quick, in here!'

Jack skidded to a halt outside a run-down looking goblin abode. Throwing the 

door open, he bundled Ben in before he also entered.

High above the city, from the highest window in the castle, Jareth watched 

the commotion unfold beneath him. Like little ants, goblins scuttled through the 

streets, running this way and that, bumping into each other, shouting and 

screaming about something or other.

He had watched as the two boys had run into the patrol group. He had watched 

as they fled through the streets in blind panic. He had watched as they lost 

themselves in his great city. And he had watched as they had hidden themselves 

away.

'How long has it been, Jack and Ben? I never thought I'd be seeing you two 

again.'

Jareth smiled, remembering the day the young boy David had come to him.

He remembered the thirteen hours the two brothers had spent, frantic and 

determined, and the desperation they had shown when they realised they had 

failed. No matter how many times he saw it, he was always curious as to why they 

always took it so badly - after all, they wished the boy away. It was always the 

same. Sometimes, he felt a little unappreciated. Still, he would make up for 

that now.

'I'll be seeing you very soon' he said to no one in particular, and fell 

gracefully from his lofty perch, swooping through the air as his body and mind 

transformed into his favourite form, that of a pearly white owl.

'Jack, do you hear that?'

The inside of the house had the appearance of a typical goblin home. The only 

room downstairs was small and cluttered up with pieces of badly-made wooden 

furniture. Jack was busy stacking most of it up against the door and windows 

when Ben started tugging on his sleeve.

'Ben, help me with this will you. We're trapped, for god's sake. If they find 

out where we are, we're gonna' be in even more trouble. Oh Christ, come on.'

'But Jack. I can hear someone crying upstairs.' He murmured.

Jack was beginning to get frustrated.

'If you're not going to help me with this, Ben, then go and hide yourself 

somewhere. We can't be found, do you understand' Jack said firmly, taking his 

younger brother by the shoulders and speaking directly at him. 'We can't be 

found.'

'I understand, Jack.'

With that, Ben turned and made his way up the rickety stairs of the small 

goblin house.

Ben reached the top of the stairs, where he saw the source of the crying. 

Even after a year, there was no mistaking the child that stood in the corner of 

the room, hands wrapped around his stomach, tears rolling down his cheeks and 

falling to the floor. It was David, his little brother.

A sea of emotion overwhelmed Ben. Tears began to well up in his eyes, and his 

lips began to tremor.

'Jack' he whimpered ever so quietly. There was no answer. The sound of 

furniture being thrown around came up from downstairs.

'Jack' he called out, louder this time. 'Jack, I think you should come up 

here.'

'Ben, I'm a little busy down here right now. They're at the door, for god's 

sake! OK, calm down. What should we do? Come on Jack, think.'

'I mean it, Jack. I think you should see this.'

Jack noticed the eerie tone Ben's voice had suddenly taken on.

'Ben. What's wrong?'

'I'm not kidding around up here, Jack.'

'OK. Don't move, Ben. I'm coming up.'

Climbing the stairs, Jack reached his brother and saw the look in his eyes. 

Tears had already begun to make their way down his cheeks. Without talking, Ben 

extended a shaky hand towards one corner of the cramped little room.

Jack followed his gaze. And then he was on his knees, sobbing into his hands. 

Ben went down with him. The sight of his brother breaking down was more than 

enough to send him over the edge.

Jack held out both hands to his little brother. The young, frightened boy ran 

into his arms.

'David', he sobbed, stroking his fair hair,' Where have you been? My god, 

where have you been?'

'Where have I been?' David murmured in his childish tone.

'We looked for you everywhere. My God, we couldn't find you, Davey.' Jack 

gasped, holding onto his brother as hard as ever.

'But Jack. I've been right here all along.' David replied softly.

'Here? Where's here? You mean, in the Goblin City?' Jack answered, wondering 

how on earth his little brother had survived so long on his own.

'Well where else, Jack? After all, this is my home.'

David's voice took on a strange eerie quality that frightened Jack, sending 

shivers down his spine.

'What do you mean, your home?'

'Oh Jack. I thought you were going to be more fun than this. You don't seem 

to be as smart as I thought you were.'

That was not the voice of a child. It was not the voice of David. Jack 

recognised it straight away. Gripped by fear, unable to release his hold on the 

thing in his arms, he watched as his little brothers figure began to twist and 

distort, growing tall and thin. His arms and legs stretched out long and 

graceful, and his hair fell into long, white shards, until before him stood the 

only thing he had ever hated in his life; Jareth, King of the Goblins.

'Come now, Jack. Did you ever think you could beat me? You are no match for 

me, Jack. Look at yourself. Look at your brother.' Jareth was talking about Ben, 

who had fainted. 'You always were weak. I never thought I'd see you again. The 

Labyrinth has beaten many people, Jack. I never saw any of them again. I suppose 

I should respect you. Well, should I, Jack?'

Jack could not answer. His mouth was frozen shut in terror, his eyes wide and 

bulging.

Then, in a flash of brilliant white light, Jareth was gone. It took Jack 

several minutes to come to his senses. When he did he realised that not only had 

the sound of the goblin crowd gone, but so had Ben. 

Stumbling through the streets of the Goblin City, Jack looked at the world 

through confused eyes. He thought nothing of the goblins walking the streets, 

and they ignored him too. A few sniggered to themselves, some even pointed. Most 

didn't acknowledge his presence at all. He felt as if he was the butt of some 

hideous joke that had left everyone else laughing at his misfortune. He had done 

everything he could have done for his brothers. He'd practically kept Ben alive 

this past year all on his own. Now, Ben was gone.

Later the next day, Jack sat hunched up in the little hovel that had been his 

home for the past year, surrounded by the few belongings he owned. He had 

already made his mind up. He'd made it up several hours ago. Everything he had 

was gone, and if he wanted one thing more than anything else, it was to be with 

his brothers again. There was only one way he was going to be able to do that. 

The very thought of it filled him with terror, but it was the only thing left to 

do. It was the only thing he could do.

Jareth sat in his throne chamber, his head resting on his hand, thinking. He 

looked over at the boy that was Ben sitting by the window, staring starry-eyed 

out into the afternoon sky. Jareth had been surprised at the rate at which the 

change had taken the boy. He had not spoken for some time now. His eyes were 

showing the strange quality they took on during the transformation. He would 

make a good goblin. Not that Jareth particularly cared. He had seen it many 

times now, and each time was practically the same. His gaze returned to the 

floor. It had been a year since the three boys had entered the Labyrinth, and 

with Jack and Ben's failure he had assumed that their story was finished. He had 

been wrong, and he wondered why. He had never missed anything that happened in 

the Labyrinth before. His eyes were everywhere, he was everywhere, and yet he 

had missed the two boys hidden away in the dump. That was what troubled him the 

most.

'Your highness, your highness' Jareth's messenger hurried into the chamber, 

helmet flapping about on his head as he jogged along, and falling completely off 

his head as he bowed at his master's feet.

'What is it, Hoglum?' Jareth replied irritably.

'The boy Jack, your highness. He is at the front gate. He wants to see you, 

your highness.'

Now this is strange, thought Jareth.

A little knot of what Jareth assumed was anxiety seeded itself in his 

stomach. This broke all the rules. He was the Goblin King, the one to be feared 

by all, the master of the Labyrinth. Visitors did not come to visit him. 

Visitors feared him. What could Jack be up to?

'Send him in, Hoglum.'

'Yes your highness' Hoglum answered, and bustled towards the door.

'Hoglum. Your helmet.'

'Oh, yes. Thank you, your highness.'

The goblin hurried over and picked it up.

'Your highness.' He wheezed, bowing deeply.

'Hoglum, quickly. The boy?' Jareth snapped irritably.

'Yes your highness, I'll go immediately.'

'Ben, come here' Jareth called out to the half-boy sitting at the window.

Ben ambled over to Jareth's throne, his face blank and his eyes beginning to 

show a shallow quality that Jareth always felt comfortable seeing in his 

underlings.

'Behind my chair, Ben.'

Ben did as he was bid without question or expression. He tucked himself away 

behind Jareth's throne, where he remained perfectly still.

'Alright, come in.'

Jack had been waiting for several minutes at the front gate to the castle. 

The goblins he had seen walking about the place had seemed a little more wary of 

him. He understood their confusion. They must be wondering what on Earth I'm 

doing, he thought. He almost found this amusing.

A long hallway led directly into the throne chamber. Jack strode in with as 

much confidence as he could muster. Surprisingly, this seemed to have some sort 

of effect on Jareth, who eyed him with dubious curiosity.

'Jack. This is a nice surprise.'

'I only want one thing, Jareth.' Jack couldn't help but let his voice tremble 

slightly.

'Oh but Jack, anything for you, my dear boy.' Jareth picked up on the 

trepidation in Jack's voice.

'I want to be with my brothers, Jareth. I want to be with Ben and Davey'

A wide grin made it's way across Jareth's face. The game never ends, he 

thought to himself, It just makes up new rules.

'Jack, I don't know what you mean. What are you trying to say?' The sarcasm 

in Jareth's voice was as slick as ever.

'You know what I am trying to say, Jareth. I am dead. You have made sure of 

that, and I would rather be with my brothers than be lost without them.'

'Oh. I see.'

Jareth put a finger to his chin, and perused Jack thoughtfully.

'What do you think this is, Jack?'

'It's a game, isn't it? A game for your pleasure.'

'No Jack, not for my pleasure. I only did what you told me to do. You asked 

me to take your brother away, and I did so.'

'Well, now I'm asking you to take me too. Go on. It's what you do, isn't it?' 

'No, Jack. I won't.'

Jack stumbled back.

'What do you mean, you won't?'

'I won't take you, Jack. And do you know why?' Jareth stood up gracefully as 

he spoke his words.

'Because you are no fun Jack. It's time you learnt the rules, my dear boy.'

Jareth raised his arms and tensed his face in concentration. Jack shrank back 

from him, cowering to the ground, placing his hands up in front of his face in a 

vain effort to protect himself as the world around him melted away, and a bright 

white light filled his world. 

And then he was tumbling through the air. Wind rushed past his face, his hair 

whipping about his cheeks, his clothes pressed tight against his body. Below 

him, the unmistakable brown slick of the Bog approached at break-neck speed.

And as Jack fell, a single thought filled his mind.

Damn you Jareth. Damn you.

On a sunny afternoon at the gates to the Goblin City, two goblin guards 

chatted to each other. One was Jeb. The other was his new work companion, 

Matlok. They had been working together for about three months now, and the two 

had become good friends. They were talking about dreams.

'And these dreams, they just won't go away. They're pretty damn disturbing, 

you know.'

Jeb chewed thoughtfully.

'Well, not being an expert on the subject or anything, but maybe you should 

get something done about them.'

'Like what' Matlok replied.

'Well, of course, you're not the first goblin to suffer from this ailment.'

'You do too, Jeb?'

'Well, no.' As he answered, Jeb felt a strange sensation, like a far-off 

memory nagging at the back of his mind. Something about a field, and a sunny 

day. He shook his head. 'No, not me, but some of my mates down the Shovel &

Turnip. Now, a few of them have had it bad, I hear. You know what my advice 

would be?'

'What's that, Jeb?'

'Go and see Jareth. He'll sort everything out for you.'

'Oh, right.'

And from a tree across the way, a pearly white owl looked on.

Yes Ben, it thought to itself, come and see me. I'll sort everything out for 

you. Everything.

THE END.

****

visit the Tolkien Fanfiction Archive at www.tolkien-fanfiction.iwarp.com


End file.
